


What Happened When Kurt Mouthed Off to Mr. Schuster

by haleygirl



Series: What Happened When... [3]
Category: Glee
Genre: Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-05
Updated: 2017-08-17
Packaged: 2018-12-11 08:31:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11710689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/haleygirl/pseuds/haleygirl
Summary: Kurt has had it up to here with Mr. Schuster's No-Britney-Spears rule. Unfortunately, that's now landed him in the principal's office and he doesn't know what his dad will do if he finds out he got a detention.





	1. Chapter 1

Kurt had planned to go to Between the Sheets with Mercedes after Glee today. Guess that’s off now. Will have to walk down to the shop and make up some stupid excuse to my dad. Ugh. I hate everything.  
Kurt was in the principal’s office, sitting on the bench across from a secretary who kept eyeing him and watching her purse like he was some kind of delinquent. He had mouthed off to Mr. Schuster in Glee because Mr. Schue had been being impossible, refusing to even discuss doing Britney Spears numbers. Get with this century. The last lesson was about Michael Bolton. Why can’t we do songs teenagers would actually want to see performed?  
“Mr. Kurt Hummel.” Mr. Figgins announced. Kurt slumped, feeling sorry for himself. He sighed, grabbing his bag and skulking into Figgins’ office.  
“Donna tells me Mr. Shuster sent you. Care to tell me what misbehavior warranted this visit?”  
Kurt grunted, not having a really good answer but figuring he didn’t have a lot to lose. He dropped into the chair across from Figgins’ desk, unwilling to make eye contact. Maybe if he just gave him the silent treatment he’d give up and leave him alone?  
Figgins studied Kurt. He was used to this behavior from his frequent fliers, but the mystique of being in the principal’s office intimidated most kids who rarely got in trouble. He could not recall a time when Kurt had been sent to his office before, and had assumed he would be shaking in his boots.  
“Is it perhaps your attitude that caused a problem, young man?” Mr. Figgins probed, donning his sternest voice.  
Kurt squirmed at the tone. He really had no bluster to speak of when it came down to it. “Mr. Schuster won’t let us do Britney Spears songs,” he muttered, grudgingly.  
Figgins raised an eyebrow. “What does that have to do with anything?”  
Kurt scowled. “He says she’s not a good ‘role model,” he said, rolling his eyes. “He sent me here because I kept arguing for us to do them and I sort of… said he should stop being so f-friggin uptight all the time.” He studied his hands, feeling nervous now.  
Mr. Figgins nodded. This was about what he expected. As a devout Christian he was impressed to hear that Schue was taking a hard line against Britney Spears’ music. He had heard that Ms. Spears had had a marriage that only lasted 55 hours. He wasn’t actually sure he knew which songs from the radio were hers—he usually just listened to the local Christian Rock station anyway. But he figured since she was clearly a heathen they wouldn’t be any that promoted good moral values. She probably has a sex and love addiction and doesn’t have a pastor to fix it. Sad world. Music was seductive, he supposed. Personally, he found some of the Cheerios routines a bit risqué for his taste at times but there was no telling Sue Sylvester how to do her job. Maybe this meant the Glee Club would be exploring more wholesome performances. William could be an idiot sometimes, but this was promising.  
“Mr. Schuster is right. Ms. Britney Spears is not a role model. Your adoption of bad-boy ways demonstrates you are already succumbing to her influence.” Figgins said.  
“What?” Kurt asked, confused.  
Mr. Figgins ignored him. “You can’t talk to a teacher like that, Mr. Hummel. Disrespect is serious. There will have to be consequences.”  
“Is this going to go on my permanent record?” Kurt asked.  
“Of course it will,” Mr. Figgins dismissed. He pulled a paper from a drawer in his desk and began to fill it out. “You will attend detention tomorrow, after school. Have your mother sign this paper and bring it with you to the detention classroom promptly at 3:30PM.”  
“My mother’s dead.”  
“No excuses, Mr. Hummrl.”  
“It’s not an—“  
“If the detention slip is left unsigned, you’ll have a second detention. It’s school policy.”  
Kurt suddenly felt butterflies in his stomach. He hadn’t counted on having to have his dad know. I guess he’ll probably not be so happy about this…  
There was a knock behind him.  
“William!” Mr. Figgins greeted.  
“Hey Figgins.” Mr. Shuster greeted, taking the chair next to Kurt. “Kurt.”  
Kurt stared at Mr. Schue a moment and then looked away.  
“Mr. Hummel admits that he was disrespectful to you and will serve detention tomorrow.”  
Mr. Schuster nodded. “Sounds fair.”  
Kurt examined his nails. He couldn’t believe Mr. Schuster was making such a big deal of this. He wouldn’t be in this mess if Mr. Schue just listened to music that was made after 1990 every now and then.  
Mr. Figgins cleared his throat. “Mr. Hummel? Do you have anything to say to Mr. Schuster?”  
Ugh.  
“Like what?” Kurt asked, stubborn.  
“Well an apology would be nice.” Mr. Schuster pressed.  
Kurt groaned. “Fine. I’m sorry.”  
Mr. Figgins looked like he was going to say something more, but Mr. Schuster shook his head and raised a hand.  
“Thank you, Kurt. I care about you and your feelings. Teachers have feelings too and I hope this is a lesson for you about being hurtful.”  
What the actual fuck. Hurtful? You’re thirty-some-odd years old. Maybe you should be examining why your self-esteem is too fragile for criticism from a sixteen year old.  
Kurt reached over and took the detention slip and put it in his bag. “Is that it? Can I go now?” he asked, directing his attention to Mr. Figgins.  
Mr. Figgins studied him a moment and then sighed, nodding.  
Kurt stood up, making an effort to take up as little space as possible as he brushed past Mr. Schuster and out of the office, happy to be done with all that awkwardness. Being a teenager sucks sometimes.


	2. Chapter 2

“Hey Dad.” Kurt said, walking into the shop as nonchalantly as he could.  
Burt grunted, looking up from some paperwork. “Thought you said you were getting a ride home with your friend.”  
Kurt shrugged. “Change of plans. Are you done soon? I’m hungry.” He slumped against a car, hoping the answer was yes and he could go hide in the basement and pretend he hadn’t bothered to get out of bed today.  
Burt sighed, rubbing his temple. “Yes but have to stop t the grocery store on the way home. We’re all out of milk and someone never bothered to tell me.”  
Kurt scowled. Apparently everything was his fault now? “Sorry,” he muttered.  
Burt tossed his clipboard on his desk. “Hey Rick!” he called to one of his mechanics. “Lock up for me? I got to run an errand with the kid before dinner.” He threw a set of keys to Rick and grabbed his coat.  
“How was school?” Burt asked, unlocking the doors to the car.  
“Boring.” Kurt responded, in a tone that made it clear he wasn’t looking for conversation.  
Burt rolled his eyes and got in the car.  
Kurt put his headphones in and listened to his iPod, staring out the window the whole way to the grocery store.  
“You coming in?” Burt asked when he parked. Seeing Kurt couldn’t hear, he pulled one of the earpieces out, drawing a scowl onto his son’s face.  
“I said, you coming in?” Burt repeated.  
“Nah,” Kurt grunted, pulling the earpiece back and returning it to his ear.  
“Nice talk,” Burt muttered and headed into the grocery store.  
Kurt sat bored for a couple minutes. He thought about what he should do about that stupid detention slip. His dad wouldn’t notice if he came home late after school one day; he usually got home from the shop after him anyhow. If it weren’t for that parent signature requirement he wouldn’t even have to know. Maybe he wouldn’t even care about it, Kurt reasoned. It wasn’t like he got in trouble in a class that mattered or something. It was just a silly club. And his dad probably barely knew who Britney Spears was; he wouldn’t even understand. But his dad could get pretty stern when he’d had it with his mouth these days… Kurt figured he’d probably be that much more mad about it if he thought he was now getting mouthy with teachers. He might threaten to take away his sewing machine again. Or wifi privileges. Kurt grimaced. Not worth the risk. He took off his headphones and dug into his bag for a pen and fished the detention slip out of the front pocket where he’d left it. He scribbled a thoroughly undecipherable signature where his father’s was supposed to be. The last thing I need right now is another lecture today, he reasoned. He folded up the paper and put it back just as he saw his father coming back out of the store with a couple plastic bags of groceries in his hand.   
“Hold these,” Burt said, handing the groceries over to Kurt. Kurt wordlessly did as he was told, anxious to get home.  
As the car started up again, Kurt glanced in one of the bags. “Macaroni and cheese, dad? Really? I’m not 5.”  
“I didn’t buy it for you.” Burt grunted. “But I’d watch your complaining Kurt because you’re on a thin ice with me at the moment.”  
Kurt frowned. “What? What did I do?”  
“Besides showing basically no manners since the moment you got out of school today?” Burt responded pointedly.  
Kurt rolled his eyes. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”  
“Well I just had a conversation in the store that’s got me thinking you’re having a good deal of trouble in the manners department these days, young man.”  
Kurt looked at his dad. “What?”  
“You got something to tell me, son?”  
“Dad I don’t know what you’re talking about and—“  
“That Spanish teacher of yours was in line right ahead of me, Kurt.”  
There was a pause.  
“You mean, Mr. Schuster?”  
“You got some other Spanish teacher I don’t know about?”  
“I don’t even take Spanish Dad, I take French.”  
“Whatever. The guy who runs the Glee club, you know what I’m talking about.”  
“I don’t know what he told you Dad, but—“  
“He told me your mouth got you in trouble enough today to get you sent to the principal. That true?”  
Kurt slumped. Damn it, Mr. Schue. “It’s… not a big deal Dad—“  
“I asked if it was true.”  
“…Kind of.”  
Burt stared ahead as he drove the rest of the way home without a word, leaving Kurt unsure and nervous. He wondered if his father was going to ground him. There was no way this was over, he was definitely going to get yelled at, at least. It would be easier if his father would just let it out and be done with it, honestly. Ugh.


	3. Chapter 3

Burt got out of the car and shut the door, leaving Kurt with the groceries still in his lap. Can I get some help please? Ugh. Kurt hobbled out of the car, dangling the groceries in one hand, his schoolbag on the other shoulder and his iPod earbuds twisted up amongst it all. Grumpy, he followed his dad into the house, dropping everything on the kitchen counter.  
“So what happened?” Burt finally said, having counted to ten and back several times.  
“I told you. It’s nothing.” Kurt said, nervous but not too nervous to hold back on a little exasperation.  
“Tell me about how ‘nothing’ it was.” Burt pressed, grabbing the milk and putting it away in the refrigerator before taking out a beer.  
Kurt sighed. “You wouldn’t understand.”  
“Try. Me.” Burt said, in a tone that let Kurt know he wasn’t playing around.  
Kurt pursed his lips, avoiding eye contact. “I got into an argument with Mr. Schuster in Glee club.”  
“…About?”  
Kurt slumped. “About how I think we should be doing Britney Spears songs and he doesn’t like her music.”  
That sounded about as dumb a thing to be arguing about as Burt had expected. “Since when do you ‘argue’ with teachers?”  
“Da-ad…” Kurt whined.  
“Does he even get paid to stay after school and listen to you kids sing? If he was the football coach you wouldn’t be arguing back about the plays would you?”  
Kurt pouted. “That’s different.”  
“Why?”  
“Because—football coaches are… scarier, I don’t know.”  
“Ah so since Mr. Schuster isn’t yelling in your faces like that Mr. Tanaka, you think it’s an invitation to walk all over him?”  
“No, I wasn’t—UGH…” Kurt sulked.  
“Because you need someone to holler at you I’m certainly available young man. Seems like a pretty nice guy to be taking time after school every other day. And you choose to be so obnoxious you get yourself sent to the principal’s office?” Burt took a swig of his beer, irritated. He probably wouldn’t be so upset if Kurt had gotten in trouble in math class or something—this just seemed ludicrous.  
“I wasn’t being obnoxious!”  
“Right.”  
Kurt stared past his dad, feeling sorry for himself. “I just… told him he should stop being so friggin’ uptight all the time,” he muttered, squirming a bit inside.  
Burt nodded. “You’ve got a problem with your mouth.”  
Kurt shrugged and looked away, uncomfortable. Can you just get on with it and say I’m grounded or whatever?  
“You’re grounded. No going out after school this week and I’m changing the wi-fi password until Monday.”  
“Dad! That’s not fair!”  
“I decide what’s fair.”  
“You’re being ridiculous.”  
“You’re welcome to your opinion, but I think you get an awful lot of slack around here kiddo. You get a lot more independence than some kids and you know good and well I’ve let your sarcasm slide more than not these days. And if the teacher called and said you were forgetting your homework or daydreaming during English or something, I probably wouldn’t even much care. But I didn’t raise you to be fresh to grownups, and that Mr. Schuster is a nice guy who doesn’t deserve to have a teenager talking back to him like that.”  
“Da—adddd—“  
“Look, the very best cure I know for a smart mouth is a smarting bottom young man, so personally I’d quit while I was ahead if I was you.”  
Kurt scoffed. It had been at least a couple years since he’d gotten a spanking. Well, aside from maybe a couple swats here and there, but that didn’t—really—count. “I’m 16, Dad.”  
“Sure not acting like it today.”  
Unable to come up with an argument to that, Kurt changed tactics. “All my shows are on Hulu now. I need the wi-fi to even watch anything—“  
“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize a punishment was supposed to be convenient.”  
“I already got punished! I had to go to Mr. Figgins and I got a detention! It isn’t fair to also—“  
Burt chuckled. “Your grandfather’s got to be rolling over in his grave, Kurt. I visited the principal’s office more than once and let me tell you every time I sure as hell knew to expect to feel a paddle warm up my backside at home after. And he wasn’t taking inventory about how much I’d already been punished at school. You get in a habit of stepping out of line like this and we’ll start taking some steps out of his playbook, young man. ”  
Kurt scowled. He didn’t like where this was going. “You can’t… spank me.”  
Burt put down his drink, stern. “I can, and I will, if that’s what your behavior shows me you’re needing. But if you insist that you’re too ‘grown up’ for a spanking from my hand, I’m sure I can find something else to use.”


	4. Chapter 4

“UGH.” Kurt dropped his school bag on the floor and stormed away to the door to the basement, making quite a bit more noise than necessary on his way down to his room.  
Burt rolled his eyes. His kid wasn’t one to be submissive much of the time. He decided to let him stew some rather than chasing him down. He took out a pot and started to make himself some macaroni.  
As he went over to the stove, he tripped over the schoolbag Kurt had left. Damn it, Kurt. You’d think with the trouble he was in, he’d be thinking twice before leaving his stuff all over the floor? Burt sighed, kicking at it a bit out of the way and finishing pouring in the pasta.   
While he waited for the water to boil, he remembered and went to change the Wi-Fi password. His kid was going to be pretty moody without the internet to entertain him, he figured.   
As he was thinking this, his eyes fell on a yellow piece of paper on the ground that said “Detention Slip.” Huh. He remembered what Kurt had said, that he had already been punished, having been sent to Mr. Figgins’ office and gotten a detention. But if he had served his detention already he wouldn’t have gotten back from school so early. It must be for tomorrow. Curious, though, Burt picked the paper off the floor. He couldn’t remember if he’d had detention slips back when he was in school. He got in trouble back then a lot more than his kid ever did, truth be told. It’s weird what you remember and what you don’t. Burt unfolded the paper.  
Almost immediately, his eyes were drawn to the pen scratched signature at the bottom. It said Burt Hummel. Burt pursed his lips, ready to blow his stack at seeing this forgery, but was interrupted by the splashing sound of the water overflowing from the pot on the stove. Hurriedly he turned off the heat and tried to clean it up. He took a breath, counting to ten. Detention and mouthing off were one thing, forgery was another altogether. If anything called for a good spanking, he figured, this was it. He grimaced, deciding at last that he should just get it over with.  
He padded down to the steps, finding Kurt sulking on the sofa.   
“We need to talk kiddo.”  
“I thought we already did.” Kurt grumbled. Burt figured he’d already tried to go online and found himself unable to.  
“That was before I found this.” Burt said, holding up the yellow paper.  
Kurt’s eyes went wide for a moment before trying to cover. “I—I told you I got a detention. It’s—not a big deal.”  
“When is this detention?”  
“Tomorrow. After school.”  
“Seems from this you need a parent signature to get in…”  
Kurt stared at the floor, nervous.  
“I—I guess. I never had a detention before,” Kurt muttered..  
“Yeah it seems you’re pretty out of practice with forging my name young man. That signature doesn’t look anything like mine.”  
There was a long silence. Burt stepped off the landing at the bottom of the stairs.   
“What do you have to say for yourself?”  
“I… figured you’d—be busy.”  
“You figured you could get in this much hot water at school without my finding out.”  
Kurt scowled.   
“Didn’t you?” Burt pressed. “Don’t you lie to me—“  
“Yes! Okay?” Kurt was doing an admirable job of trying to look unbothered, but his fidgeting fingers betrayed him.  
“You tried this before?”  
“No, I told you—I never got a detention before!”  
“And I’m supposed to believe that? How am I supposed to know you haven’t been signing my name to all kinds of documents?”  
Kurt rolled his eyes. “Da-ad—“  
“Don’t you Da-ad me. This is never happening again, young man.” Burt crossed over to the table in the corner where Kurt had been painting. There were two paint cans, a brush, and a package of paint stirrers. He pulled one of the paint stirrers out of the package.   
“What are you doing?” Kurt asked, alarmed.  
“We’re going to take care of this—“  
“You’re going to spank me with—“  
“You say you want a more grown up spanking far be it from me to—“  
“I didn’t… say—“   
“Well forgery tells me you’re needing a little more than the usual, young man.”  
Kurt sighed, exasperated. “It’s not—forgery. God, you make it sound like something criminal.”  
Burt raised an eyebrow. “Well I think after I warm your bottom up you can write me a little essay about why it’s not acceptable to sign someone else’s name on it.”   
“It was just this once—“ Kurt faltered, standing.  
“Once is more than enough for me, young man.” Burt’s voice hardened.  
“I—I--- I’m sorry, okay?””  
“You’re sorry you got caught.” Burt dismissed. “You’re sorry you’re getting punished.” Burt headed to the couch. “You’re going to think twice the next time you see a space on a dotted line for a parent signature, young man. I told you upstairs—don’t ever think I’m not going to be there to discipline you if you need it. Now I suggest you take down those skinny jeans of yours before I have to.”


	5. Chapter 5

“N-n-no one I know still gets spanked, D-dad.” Kurt stuttered.  
“How would you know? Think it’s something they’d advertise?” Burt countered, sitting on the couch beside his son.  
Kurt tensed, unsure. He had gotten spanked here and there when he was younger, and had kept himself under the radar for some time. He couldn’t believe he’d been stupid enough to leave that detention slip where his dad might find it. He swallowed, hesitating to look his father in the eye.  
“Look kiddo. You know you did wrong. Let’s get this over with.” Burt said, more gently.  
“I won’t do it again.” Kurt whispered.  
“Excellent. Then you won’t need to worry about getting spanked for it again.”  
Kurt shrunk into himself, unable to come up with an argument for that.  
“It may have been awhile, son, but you know if you’re going over my knee we’re going to do it properly.”  
Kurt shakily stood up. His dad was being stupid. Old fashioned. Whatever. It was just a little spanking. Something a little kid might fear, but how bad could it be? Better than being grounded for a month or something, he supposed.   
“This is stupid.” Kurt grumbled, unbuttoning his jeans.   
“Didn’t ask for your input.” Burt remarked, hurrying the process along by pulling them down as soon as the button had been loosened.  
Kurt’s throat went dry, feeling the thick fabric of his jeans pushed past his knees. He couldn’t believe his father was really going through with this. He was trying to think of something to say, some well-crafted apology to get out of it now but he was distracted by the firm grip of his father’s hand on his arm, pulling him across his knee. Kurt gasped at how quickly he lost his equilibrium and was laying prone with his head facing the floor like some little kid.   
“Da---aaaad!” he whined.  
Burt ignored him, quickly pulling his underwear down to his knees as well.  
At this Kurt tensed, urgently trying to get up and off his father’s lap. But Burt held him in place.  
“Dad, you can’t---!” he sputtered.  
“I told you you’d earned a proper spanking young man and that’s what you’re going to get.” Burt scolded. With that, he lifted his hand and swatted down hard on Kurt’s bare bottom, eliciting a squeal that embarrassed his son almost as much as the position he was in did.  
“HEYYYY!”  
“Oh did that get your attention?” Burt asked, SMACKing his son’s bottom again. He spanked in earnest, rapidly turning the squirming bottom over his knee pink. Kurt scowled as he did, stubbornly trying to hold back on his desire to squeal. He just could not believe this was happening. He remembered what it had been like to get a spanking when he was younger. It wasn’t like his father had ever said he was too old now, he had just… assumed. This was mortifying.  
“You need to watch your mouth young man. Or you’re going to find your naughty bottom over my knee a lot more often.” Burt scolded as his calloused hand spanked Kurt to squirming.  
“Da-aaad,” Kurt whimpered.  
Burt flexed the sting from his hand a moment, shaking his head. “I told you a smart mouth was likely to get you a smarting bottom. I’ve told you that since you were little. You knew better than to be talking back to teachers. And you certainly know better than to be signing my name to anything.”  
“I said I was sorry!” Kurt begged. It was starting to hurt. Like a lot more than necessary.  
“I bet you are,” Burt commented, picking up the paint stirrer. He pressed the wood against his son’s tender flesh, eliciting a whimper.  
“Da-aad. Please!”  
“I never liked getting my backside paddled either, kiddo. But I knew whenever I did I deserved it. You had the choice to do what was right and you chose otherwise.” Burt lifted the stirrer up and swatted it down, sending Kurt squirming hard and yelping.  
“HHEEYY Nooooo!”Kurt squealed.  
Burt SLAPPED the flat piece of wood down again, watching the imprint of red it left across his son’s bare bottom.  
Tears sprung into Kurt’s eyes now. He writhed in pain, feeling his father’s strong arm holding him over his knee. “It HURTTSSSSSS!” he cried.  
Burt tried to steel himself to his son’s cries, telling himself he needed to be strong to make his message clear. “That’s the feeling of learning your lesson, son,” he said, SMACKing the paint stirrer down twice in succession to hit each sit spot, sending Kurt’s legs kicking the way they did when he was spanked as a little boy.   
“Nooooo OWWWWW I’m sorryyyyyyy…..” Kurt cried, wishing he’d behaved, wishing it were over.  
“Are you going to be signing my name to anything in the future young man?” Burt bellowed.  
“Noooooo I’m sorrryyyyyy.” Kurt sobbed.   
“See that you don’t. I don’t like having to warm your bottom up, but I will again if you need reminding about basic expectations kiddo. Got it?  
“Yessssssssss.” Kurt sniffled, aching to rub his sore bottom.  
Burt sighed, shaking his head at the reddening bottom across his knee. He was being strict tonight, but Kurt had to learn. If he had let this go it would just invite more bad behavior, he reasoned. He had enough problems without his son thinking he could get away with this sort of thing. He dropped the paint stirrer on the couch and laid his hand on his son’s warm bottom.   
“You’re going to apologize to Mr. Schuster, Kurt. I don’t care what songs he’s making you sing, he doesn’t deserve any lip from you.”  
“Okay Dad Okayyyyy.”  
“I love you, but no son of mine is going to turn into one of those kids that just thinks they can get detention all the time and no one at home is going to notice or care.”  
“Yes Dad I knowwww.” Kurt whimpered.  
“Alright. You can get up.” Burt tapped Kurt’s bottom twice and let him up, sniffling and red-faced. Kurt hurriedly pulled his underwear and pants up, avoiding his father’s gaze. Burt, for his part, felt some relief at it being over. Kurt was overwhelmed between embarrassment and soreness. Neither said anything for a moment.  
Finally, Burt put a hand on his son’s shoulder. “I’m making macaroni. You’re welcome to join. Or not.”  
Kurt nodded, still avoiding eye contact. Burt figured he needed some space. “I’ll be upstairs,” he said, slipping away towards the stairs.


End file.
